


Skeletons in the closet

by othersin



Series: demon baphomet and the bird-brain archangel [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Attempt at Humor, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demon forms, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Reverse Omens, Romance, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), pre-demon aziraphale make an appearence, snake sock puppet crowley, the original good omens cast make an appearence, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin
Summary: Aziraphale is looking for something very important, however he seemed to place it into deep storage into the pocket reality that the celestial and infernal use. Crowley offers to retrieve it for him, because he is a good friend and not due to an unhealthy amount of curiosity or obsession to learn more about his infernal companion.Due to the demons nature, it is a far more lively place than it ought to be however.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: demon baphomet and the bird-brain archangel [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680046
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Skeletons in the closet

**Author's Note:**

> please check out Ineffable Husbands (story art) by ShannonRene, they have done some pretty amazing fan-art and deserves praise :)
> 
> To see fan art for this chapter go here [Ineffable Husbands (story art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654625/chapters/56406637)

“No…” Aziraphale sighed, rummaging through his closet – flinging out the clothes around him, barely missing Crowley while he was tending to the demonic flora that the demon had picked up. None of them dangerous as such, Crowley learnt his lesson from the hell vines and hell lace – and while they were born from the land of the damned, they were living things and deserved a kind touch.

They sometimes snapped and hissed at the angel, but they seemed to reluctantly allow and even enjoy the care the other bestowed on them – like temperamental house cats that only knew hate and suffering. They really liked the blood and bone mix Crowley gave them however – the archangel was spritzing the plants with some water to dampen the writhing roots and snapping, fanged petals. Trying to avoid spraying into the centre of the flower where the many blinking eyes were, the plants did not like getting water in them at all, last time the angel accidentally did, the poor things started to scream so loud that it shattered the demons crystal decanter.

An article of clothing hit the back of the angels head making Crowley arch an brow and cease his tending to the plants, turning to the demon that seemed to be going through his deep storage, watching the other to continue to mutter to himself staring at what appeared to be a bronze phallic shaped statue with wings and lion legs, between the lion legs had another erect penis*. Crowley recalled seeing very similar statues in Rome, as he remembered it was often placed to protect a household or even a person from the evil eye.

“Why do I even have this?” Aziraphale squinted at the charm with his goat eyes, “I am the evil eye.”

“Haven't got a clue.”

“Oh! I remember now – you remember that sculptor fellow?” Aziraphale scoured his mind, “That one guy that really liked sculpting Fascinus amulets, like, I think that was the only thing he knew how to sculpt – I was his favourite dick model.”

“How could I forget, he followed you for a week… it was creepy”

“He had taste – nothing wrong with that.” Aziraphale smirked, carefully placing the sculpture on the table as he continued searching.

Crowley finally pulled what him into view after the hell vine decided to take the spritzer for itself, (the living plant had figured out the trigger motion, and how to hold a knife on an unrelated matter) it appeared to be clothes the demon kept from the 1920’s – a gleaming gold and black flapper dress that would fall past the others knees, the demon did not care much for underclothes at the time, except for the corsets that came prior.

The demon attempted to teach the archangel the Charleston, the angel becoming quickly distracted by supple, smooth, rounded thighs with a matching lacy garter flashing teasingly by an overly energetic move – the dance was never taught properly nevertheless every time the angel saw footage of the dance…well, he got a little hot under the collar.

Crowley couldn’t help but pull the fabric gently between his fingers, the faint scent of bootleg liqueur, tobacco and female musk that was still very Aziraphale still lingered on the fabric - taking a side long look at the demon that seemed to be still searching for something else, Crowley discretely summoned a coat hanger to hang the dress on and slid the outfit into his own space between dimensions for later (you know, so it wasn’t damaged and not because he is a total creep)

“Where is it?!” Aziraphale snarled, throwing a suspiciously ancient and well-hung statue of Amun-min back into the closet – a Egyptian fertility idol, seriously the other just seemed to have a closet full of phallic imagery. Crowley winced at the sound of it shattering on the ground, its protruding erection taking out an equally ancient pot with the image of Pan chasing a shepherd boy for his rut .

Because of course the demon did, he would always say it was a conversation starter when he chose what pieces to display and an easy way to get troublesome, and conservative customers out of his store. The parents with their children wandering into the store, thinking it was just your typical bookstore – the child staring at the demons prized collection of Japanese woodblock shunga while the parent was slowly realizing that this may not be the bookshop to buy a book with Peppa pig or something in it, ‘The dream of the fisherman’s wife’ by Hokusai was the demons choice for centre stage that day. Aziraphale just grinned at the child as they stared confused at the painting, tugging at their mothers’ sleeve, asking their mother innocently, ‘Mummy, what is that octopus doing to that lady?’

The archangel however didn't bat an eye at the overtly lewd art in the others collection as it is historical and beautiful in its own merit. Aziraphale however loved to remind the angel when he accidentally stumbled upon his sex toy chest in the search for additional blankets when he was having a nightcap still made the archangel a flustered mess

“Where is what?” Crowley asked, perhaps he could help the other look for it.

“Nothing of importance…but I need it.” Aziraphale shrugged it off but the angel could tell the demon was lying.

“What is it though?” Crowley huffed, “Perhaps I saw it somewhere?”

Aziraphale ignored the continued attempts of assistance, freezing for a moment – exiting the closet and snapping his fingers, a demonic wail filled the air as reality split revealing the cosmic ether that was accessible to only the infernal and celestial. A locker if you will, but while both demons and angels shared the space between realities it was carefully split – it would be near impossible for a secured item to appear on the wrong side, the off chance that either demon or angel misfiled something was more likely.

Crowley's however, did not have the added ambiance of the screams of the damned every time he opened his.

“You sent it to the ether?” Crowley muttered ludicrously, the portal into the void just looked like the void or deep space with junk floating around – dear god, the demon gave the angel so much slack for his wings while the demons inter-dimensional storage was like that of a garbage barge or a hoarder from those TV shows.

“Possible, I was really drunk at the time when I filed it away.” The demon muttered, sounding a tad embarrassed – he attempted to summon the exact item he was looking for only to have a sock fly into his hand. A white sock, possibly taken from a pair to piss someone off in the world– it was a sock puppet with golden button eyes and red yarn hair, with a red felt snake tongue.

It then began to talk.

“Aziraphale! My best friend – I knew you would come back for me!” A high squeaky voice emitted from the Crowley snake sock puppet, pipe cleaner arms reaching out for the demon – only for the demon to let out a startled scream and throw it back into the void, a warbling cry of woe was heard before it become silent in the distance it crossed.

“Um…” Crowley began, brows furrowed.

“Must have put it into deep storage…” Aziraphale continued, stilling his trembling hands.

“Are we going to ignore the fact that you made a sock puppet…look like me?” The archangel tested the demon.

“Might have to enter the void to physically look for it.” Aziraphale ignored the other so well.

“Why would you make it alive?” Crowley muttered, a little disturbed – how long was it alive and how long was it in there?

“But I need to maintain the portal to get back out…” Aziraphale continued to mutter, trying to come up with a logical solution.

“It’s okay, I guess – we don’t have to talk about it.” Crowley sighed in defeat.

“Yes, because I will rather throw you into the sun and then drink holy water than talk about what just happened.” Aziraphale snapped at the angel, hand being engulfed in blue flame in a threatening manner – Crowley raised his hands in a mercy pose as the fire finally died down, both immortal beings staring into the swirling void.

“I could go in and find it”

“What?”

“Think about it, you need to stay here to keep the portal open and I will be able to track it pretty easily…or we can talk about the sock puppet over some wine?”

“…” Aziraphale glared at the angel, “Fine, you can have a look for it.”

“Alright then.”

“I must warn you, the object I seek is kept in a wooden black box – it is very cursed, eye melting level cursed, so cursed that I dare not say what it contains.”

“Is it a sex thing?” Crowley deadpanned.

“No, it’s not a sex thing – it is an object forged in the depths of hell itself, those foolish enough to look upon it would be driven to madness of the screaming pits…not everything I have is to do with sex.” Aziraphale pouted.

“Alright then, this object…this is not going to part of some demonic wiles is it?” Crowley stared into the abyss uncertainly.

“You have my word.” Aziraphale promised.

“A demon’s word doesn’t mean much…” Crowley hummed playfully.

“Then you have my word as a friend.” Aziraphale said so earnestly reaching out and clasping the angel’s shoulder, Crowley smiled gently at that – only to freeze when a red rope tried around the slim angel’s so suddenly.

“Y’know, just in case sock puppet Crowley tries to kill you in a fit of jealous rage and take your place.” Aziraphale laughed, and clapped the angel’s shoulder.

“That is oddly specific…”

“What? No, its just a joke – its not as though it’s tried to before.” Aziraphale continued, not putting the angel at any further ease, “Tug the rope when you need to come back, or if you get into trouble…oh, and stay on the path.”

Crowley looked to the rope that was held securely in the demon’s hands and to where it was tried around his waist like a comforting hug. It felt secure and felt sure in the others grasp – the callous manner of the demon had shifted away to something close to fondness.

Crowley turned away from the other and entered the void, the atmosphere shifting and bowing to him – it was not usually a space that demons or angels entered in their corporations, besides Aziraphale who seemed to purposely duck in and out when it suited him; just below the surface but still needing to either pull out his demon form or return to the plain. The atmosphere felt strange for an angel being on earth for so long, gravity did not feel the same nor did time, space and reality stay constant in such a space.

Crowley turned back to the demon, who looked slightly concerned but waved the angel away – the collection of junk on other things suddenly split apart, revealing a path leading to a door that ventured even deeper into the space between heaven and hell.

Well, at least the demon did have a level of organisation to create doors and rooms – Crowley walked further into the cosmos on footing he could not see but felt relatively solid under his shoes, the path seemed to stretch oddly as though he was not making any progress however it seemed to right itself as Crowley almost slammed into the door.

It creaked open, and he traveled ever deeper in search of the very cursed item that the demon was eager to get his hands on – though the angel couldn’t help but feel that this was a poorly thought out plan, what would he even find in this inner sanctum of the demon (to be trusted to walk though it). It excited and terrified the angel to no end. 

TBC?

* * *

leave a kudos and comment if you are interested.

* Fascinus was a Roman god who was the embodiment of the divine phallus. He was worshiped as the protector from sorcery, witchcraft, envy and the evil eye. He is depicted in phallic form, often winged, and the word fascinus can refer to the god, phallus effigies and amulets, and spells used to invoke his protection. As it is something created to ward off beings like Aziraphale, it is not something that makes sense to be in his home but the demon does have an ego and being uses as a model for it really stroked it.

yes, I made a pun.


End file.
